Proud of Us
by Angie63
Summary: What happened right after the cure Tag to 10.3


Dean opened his eyes and for just a minute he wasn't really sure where he was. As he forced himself to focus, he realized he was in his own room, in the bunker. His head pounded as if he had the mother of all hangovers except he hadn't been drinking. Every square inch of him seemed to hurt and for a moment he wondered if a hunt had gone seriously wrong. That made him think of Sam of course. He pulled himself up to a sitting position and realized Sam was asleep in the chair he'd pulled up to the side of the bed, his head slumped uncomfortably to the side. Dean panicked a little when he saw that Sam's arm was in a sling. Then he remembered. The cure. The last horrible hateful exchange between Sam and his demon self. Remorse for his cruel words flooded Dean like a rainstorm, filling him with guilt he had no way to erase. He actually tried to_kill his baby brother._And yet, baby brother was sleeping in a chair beside his bed, a take out cup in his good hand. Dean rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. How could he make this right? _God, he thought, I blamed Sam for mom, for everything. I am a monster._ He tried to stand and waited for the room to stop spinning. He crouched down beside Sam and placed a hand on his smiled a little at the long hair falling over Sam's forehead, a sight he had seen often for the last thirty one reached up and gently brushed the hair aside, wincing at the healing bruises on Sam's face, grateful he had not given them to his brother but vowing again to make sure the guy who did it paid dearly for hurting his Sammy. For a long moment, Dean just watched Sam sleep He pried the cup from his hand and placed it next to the bag of burgers and fried pies Sam had brought back.. His brother looked exhausted. Like he hadn't slept or even really eaten in weeks. Probably hadn't much. Dean wouldn't have if the situation were needed to sleep in a bed not his chair.

"Hey, Sam. " he said softly but in a commanding tone."Sammy, wake up." He shook Sam just a little , careful not to jar the hurt shoulder. Nothing in heaven or hell could make him hurt Sam any worse. Sam's eyes fluttered open and he jerked awake and hastily sat up.

"Dean. are you okay?" He grasped the hand on his arm and leaned forward.

"I'm fine.",Dean said and both of them half smiled at Dean Winchester's main line in the script of their lives. "Sam, you need to sleep in a bed man. Come on, go to bed."

Sam's eyes clouded. "But, I..." he faltered. Dean was suddenly worried. He squeezed Sam's hand back as hard as Sam was squeezing his.

"What? What is it Sam?" Sam ducked his head and looked at the floor. Dean couldn't see the tears that pooled in the green eyes but he knew Sam well enough to know this behavior. He remembered five year old Sam doing it. Whenever Sam wouldn't look at Dean, he was about to cry.

"I..don't want to leave you." He said it so earnestly, so brimming over with love and fear that Dean had to swallow a sob of his own. he rested his hand on Sam's head and just left it there until he could speak. This wouldn't do. _Sam was afraid if he left Dean, he would be gone again in the morning._  
><em><br>_He raised himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. "Sammy. Look at me. please." Sam did and Dean had been right. His eyes were shiny with tears."Look Sam, It's alright. I'm not going anywhere. Hell I'm not sure I could walk to the kitchen right now. Go get cleaned up. Change clothes."

Sam sighed. he was tired. A shower would be awesome. "Okay. But I'll come back here and check on you okay? You should get comfortable too. Take off your boots." Dean nodded in reply. As Sam left the room, his last reserves gave way and he couldn't stop the tears. He allowed himself to cry. He was alone and safe and somehow he was going to make it up to Sam. After a few minutes, he tried standing again and figured Sam was right. He pulled his red button up off and tossed it into the hamper in the closet. He found sweats and a clean tee shirt in the top drawer of his dresser. He sat down again and pulled off his boots which felt amazing somehow. _It's going to be okay Sam,_he promised.

Twenty minutes later Sam returned also in night attire, his hair still damp. Dean was under the covers, propped up on pillows, his eyes closed. Sam thought this must be the most wonderful moment of his life to date. His brother was alive, cured of being a demon and asleep in his own bed, in their home. He decided he wasn't sleeping in his own room, wasn't sure if he'd be able to for at least a few days. He needed to be near Dean, to be able to touch him, to hear him breathe. He quickly returned to his room, gathered pillows and an extra blanket and went back to Dean's. He eased himself onto the other side of the bed, one pillow on top of the extra one of Dean's, his extra under his arm, propping it up. As he covered up, struggling with the blanket, Dean stirred. He looked over at his brother and grinned.

"Hey. Need some help?" Sam laughed a little. He did. Dean sat up and pulled the blanket over Sam. He settled back into his pillows.

"Dean? How are you feeling and don't say fine", Sam said. Dean squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and fore finger. He looked at Sam.

"Head , everything hurts. Tired," _And guilty.I feel guilty Sammy._ He decided they'd had so much drama one more chick flick moment wouldn't matter. "Sam..."

Sam turned his head. "Yeah? Can I get you something?"

"No,Sammy, Listen. The crap I said. About Mom...and you...and Dad...I didn't mean that Sam. It was just the demon part of me, trying to hurt you."

Sam smiled."I know that Dean. Listen Dean, when I said I wouldn't save you.."

Dean remembered the night Metatron stabbed him. "You lied.", he said simply repeating Sam's words.

"Yeah. Dean _I'm_ sorry. I don't know what to say. I was ..."

Dean reached out and put his hand on the back of Sam's neck and pulled his brother's head close to his shoulder. Later he'd give Sam a real hugely chick flick hug and he wouldn't care if the whole world watched. But tonight, he felt like crap and Sam was exhausted. Sam didn't fight the "hug". He let his head fall on Dean's shoulder and relaxed, feeling five again, feeling safe because Dean was there. He let his eyelids close. Dean rested his head on top of Sam' started to turn out the small lamp on the bedside table and decided against it. They needed the light tonight. "Go to sleep Sam.", he whispered. As he gave into sleep himself, he again remembered the night he died. "Sammy,"he said against his brother's hair. "I'm proud of us


End file.
